All Other Concerns
by JWood201
Summary: Picard fell right into Shinzon's trap, and he took the rest of his crew with him. (This is just me screaming about Troi's storyline in Nemesis, don't mind me).


The first time I saw _Nemesis_, I was at work (yes, we binge shows and watch movies) and I was apparently only paying partial attention because I'm not a completely terrible employee. But I saw it again last weekend with a friend and I'm so fired up. Deanna's storyline was so traumatic and pointless and I have a lot of things to say about it, but also it made me **so profoundly** **sad**. Marina gave a heartbreaking silent performance for the second half of this film. She was so traumatized.

Anyway, I'm really angry, so here's a mediocre fic about it. I don't know what this is, but I feel better, so there you go.

I utilize some of the deleted scenes, which are on YouTube. Also reference "Violations" (yikes) and Lwaxana's DS9 baby.

Also, Picard is still on my List.

**All Other Concerns**

"NO!"

"Deanna! _Deanna!_" Her eyes flew open as she gasped for breath and he stared down at her in horror. "What's wrong?"

"He's here," she said, barely a whisper above the ringing in his ears. Fear rolled off of her in heavy waves, filling the room with a thick fog. It crashed against the blankets and slid onto the floor. "Both of them." Will moved off of her and she sat up.

"Who's here?" He looked around. The candles, once bathing the room in a romantic glow, projected eerie dancing shadows on the walls. "Talk to me!"

Deanna gathered up the sheets in one hand, pressing them against her chest. "Shinzon." She scrubbed her other hand across her neck where she could still feel his lips, cold and clammy, so unlike her husband's. "His Viceroy."

"No. No, it's just me." Will reached out to touch her hair and she flinched. He froze, arm outstretched, and they stared at each other until she began to cry and leaned her cheek into his hand. "It's me," he murmured, wiping her tears away with his thumb.

"But you were them. They were you, but it didn't feel like you. They used you. Like Jev did." She felt a rush of anger flare up in him at the mention of the Ullian's name and she pressed her palm to his bare chest over his heart. "They all took you from me."

"No, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. Tell me what happened. Please." Will's voice hardened with resolve. "I'll fix it, Deanna."

She shook her head. "You can't! They were here. And they'll be back," she said, voice twisting with apprehension. "He's not done. He waited until we were –. They were …" Deanna pressed her hands to her head, trying to quell the echo of their voices. "In me."

A surge of rage heaved up from the depths of his soul and he jumped off the bed, his emotions hitting the ceiling like an erupting volcano.

"Where are you going?" she yelled in a panic as he left the bedroom.

"To kill them!"

"Naked?"

"If I have to!"

She waited for the sound of the door opening, but it never came. The silence in their quarters pulsated around her ears. Every shadow was the Praetor's. Every sound from the depths of the ship was the Viceroy's footstep. Maybe if she were a stronger telepath she could have kept them out. Maybe if she were a full Betazoid. Or fully human.

Will eventually wandered back to the bedroom and stood in the doorway, fists clenched, muscles tense with frustration, coiled to spring into action at any moment. She had always been physically small, but she never seemed figuratively small to him until this moment, wrapped inside her citadel of sheets, eyes distant and wet, mind turned in on itself.

"I need Beverly," she whispered and he nodded.

* * *

The Captain disappeared in a shower of green transporter particles, but she barely noticed, his words echoing in her head the way Shinzon's had. Truthfully, she was relieved he hadn't been allowed to finish his last sentence because she didn't know what she would possibly have said to him. Beside her, Will was ordering Worf to raise the shields. Beverly was behind her, a rocket of shock burst from her consciousness to merge with the horror, betrayal, and love already floating above her.

Deanna vaguely felt Will press his lips to the side of her head. He whispered that he loved her near her ear and asked her to stay with Beverly while he went to the bridge, but he sounded muffled and far away. It was Picard's voice that was still speaking to her clearly. Picard's voice, morphing and changing, becoming harsher and harder.

_Permission denied._

_If you can endure more of these assaults…_

_You can endure more assaults._

_You will endure._

"I need Beverly," she had said and Will nodded, grateful for a course of action. He scooped her up, blankets and all, and was preparing to march them both across the ship to sickbay stark naked until she begged him to allow her the dignity of at least putting on her uniform. He paced the living room, restless and fuming, until she suggested that he should probably get dressed, too. In the end, she walked into sickbay on her own two shaking legs, eyes wild and scanning for the safety of that beacon of red hair.

Beverly was like a lighthouse, always moored to a sturdy foundation of medical science and maternal instinct. She knew when to push and when to love. In a crisis, she guided everyone to shore. Everyone knew to look for the flames.

After the away team returned, Deanna had confided in her about Shinzon – his fascination with meeting a human woman for the first time, wanting to touch her hair, the way he stared at her like he knew her. When she staggered into sickbay under the weight of the memory of his feelings – privilege, dominion, hunger – Beverly caught her in her arms before Will even realized she was gone from his side.

_Permission denied._

_We might learn something of his plans._

_If you can endure more of these assaults…_

_More._

_I need you to let him do it again._

"Deanna?"

She blinked up at Beverly and Picard's warped words thankfully receded into the constant hum of emotions and voices ever-present in the back of her mind. Picard, but also not Picard. More demanding and more persistent. Not her family. She tried to smile, but Beverly frowned down at her.

Beverly pulled herself up onto the bio-bed beside her friend. "I'll talk to Jean-Luc. I know it's not why you asked to be relieved of duty, but … you also know that being off the clock won't make it any harder for them to find you." Deanna lowered her eyes and Beverly pushed her shoulder against her friend's, her warmth emanating through the thick uniform fabric. "Will and I will do everything in our power to make sure that doesn't happen. I'm not sure what that is right now, but we'll sure as hell try." Deanna was violently twisting her wedding rings around her finger, gaze fixed on the corner of the room. "Please talk to me." Beverly held out her hand and Deanna paused.

Deanna let her left hand drop into Beverly's open palm and laced their fingers together. After a moment, she looked up at her. Heartbreak sparkled in the doctor's light eyes and she leaned forward until their foreheads were touching, an old inside joke about the non-existent Betazoid Mind Meld. It always somehow seemed to work between them anyway.

"His eyes, Bev. He has his eyes."

* * *

Whenever she was alone in the days that followed, Deanna called for her. She summoned every last ounce of her physical, mental, and emotional energy and funneled it into every Betazoid cell in her body. It might not have been enough, but she reached across the cosmos anyway.

Subspace wouldn't be the same. And Deanna wasn't sure she could look her in the eye without completely falling apart. Besides, there wasn't anything to say, she just wanted her presence.

She already knew what happened. She _felt it_.

She was surely already arguing with seventeen Admirals about barging into Romulan space to get to her. They'll say no, but she'll try anyway.

Deanna wanted to be annoyed. She wanted to be coddled and nagged. She wanted her arms around her and her heartbeat by her ear and her nose in her hair. She wanted her strength and her courage and her _outrage_.

She wanted someone to be outraged without fear of being court martialed. She wanted someone to say something out loud.

Deanna wanted her stupid beautiful naked Betazoid wedding on her planet with her people in her culture. She wanted the person who loved her most at her wedding.

Deanna wasn't left alone much in the days that followed, but when she was, she called for her. She found brief moments of quiet – in the shower, at night when Will fell asleep first, his tortured dreams and conflicting responsibilities untethered and tumbling over her. She blocked him out and gathered up all her unused telepathic energy. She focused it into one dense thought in the middle of her mind and then released it into the galaxy. Concentrated but clumsy, yearning and plaintive like a child.

_Mother?_

* * *

She didn't tell Will right away that it happened again.

When the turbolift arrived on Deck 7, she was on the floor with her head in her hands. Thankfully, it was Geordi who was standing on the other side of the doors when they slid open.

It dawned on her at some point while Shinzon had her backed against the wall that he didn't inhabit anyone's body in order to appear to her. She was alone in the turbolift. Apparently he didn't need anyone, but he had used Will. He chose to. He picked that moment to become her husband.

Geordi crouched in front of her and smiled in the way that always made children and animals fall in love with him. They knew they were safe.

Shinzon pushed her against the wall and called her Imzadi. The shiny vinyl of his suit creaked and slid against her uniform and she turned away, but he took her chin in his hand and forced her to look him in the eye. Picard's eyes.

She asked Geordi to take her home. When the turbolift stopped again, she tried to stand and he held her as carefully as if she were the last dilithium crystal in the galaxy. She clung to his uniform, his pips against her forehead.

Shinzon leaned toward her and she screamed, pushing her palms against his chest. He staggered back, dematerializing against the opposite wall, and she collapsed just as the turbolift arrived at Deck 7.

Shortly after Geordi left, her door chimed.

When Will returned from his bridge shift hours later, Deanna was asleep on the couch. Spot was curled up against her chest. Deanna had her arm around her, hand buried in her ginger fur. The cat squinted at him, nuzzled her head under Deanna's chin, and went back to sleep.

* * *

Worf sat at the opposite end of the table in the observation lounge as Geordi described Shinzon's new weapon. He left multiple empty seats between himself and the rest of the senior staff. He didn't know what to say to her, so he said nothing at all.

Will was beside her, as usual, with his hands in his lap, twisting his ring around his finger. Deanna was trying to make herself disappear into the corner of her chair when Picard announced that Shinzon was surely going after Earth.

"How can you be certain?" she asked before she could stop herself.

"I know how he thinks," Picard replied, innocuously enough, but Deanna stopped breathing. Did he know how Shinzon thought when he was in her head? When he was telepathically in her bed? When he inserted himself into her honeymoon?

She pulled her gaze away and saw Will tightly clasp his hands together under the table until his knuckles turned white. When summoned for the briefing, they had entered the observation lounge side by side, fingers barely touching as they moved to their usual seats. Will pulled out her chair for her and then moved it ever-so-slightly away from the head of the table towards Data. He gave her one of his preprogrammed, but not inauthentic smiles.

Will fell heavily into the seat to her left. A physical barrier between his Captain and his wife. A subtle reminder that he wasn't going to forget what he said to her in sickbay. And that it had come to fruition.

When she woke up and told him about Shinzon reappearing in the turbolift, Will finally exploded. His frustration, helplessness, rage, and countless other emotions circled the room, making the air vibrate dangerously. She said nothing, just pressed her palm to her forehead. He needed the release, it was healthy. But Spot meowed loudly at him and climbed into Deanna's lap, reaching up to gently tap one paw against her cheek.

"He needs your blood to live," Beverly said, diverting everyone's attention to the other side of the conference table. "He might come after you first."

Picard smiled wryly. "I'm counting on it."

Deanna blanched. Shinzon in person was different than Shinzon in her head. A spark of anxiety flew out of her, meeting a similar one of Will's in the air above them. He leaned forward and gripped the table. The fleet was coming, though. "Strength in numbers?" Will asked. He sounded composed, but his mind was reeling. Deanna reached out clumsily to calm him, but instead concocted a ball of nervous telepathic energy in the air between them.

"He must not be allowed to use that weapon." Picard stood and stared at Will pointedly. Deanna dropped her gaze to his hand on the table in front of her and the psionic ball popped like a balloon. She held that hand a lot. He ran it through her hair. It slapped Data on the bank good-naturedly. It dealt cards like an expert. It played the trombone badly on purpose to wake her up in the morning.

Picard held Will's gaze for a long moment. "All other concerns are secondary."

_You've been my guide and my conscience_, he had said at her wedding.

He meant her. She was secondary.

_You have helped me recognize the better parts of myself._

"You understand me?"

_You are my family._

Of course, they all understood. They had to defeat Shinzon and destroy his weapon. As Starfleet officers, they knew their duty, but Deanna couldn't stop the feeling that was churning in the pit of her stomach. She was convinced that Will was about to rip the table in two. The silence in the room was deafening.

Will slowly turned to look at her and she met his gaze briefly – _it's okay_ – before turning back to his hand on the table. It held her gently and it attacked their enemies. It tentatively pet Spot when she was in a good mood. It helped her mother off the transporter pad. It protected them all.

Finally, because he was his Captain and his best man and he had no other choice, Will said, "Yes, sir."

* * *

Almost every night, Will waited patiently in the living room while Beverly and Deanna sat on their bed, the doctor counseling the counselor with her mere presence. They talked for hours, Beverly's long legs twisted beneath her, Deanna hugging her pillow, Spot and snacks between them, until Will was allowed in to let his wife fall asleep on his chest, the cat against her leg, the most comforting and peaceful memories he could summon raining into her nightmares.

On nights when he fell asleep first by accident, Deanna blocked out his dreams and called for her mother.

Deanna and Beverly talked about everything and nothing, their two favorite subjects. Nothing had changed in their evenings together, except that Beverly didn't gossip about the Captain and Deanna didn't tease her about him.

It was nice to be distracted. To talk about food and Worf's hatred of Irving Berlin and who's dating on the lower decks. They talked about Ian and Lwaxana and Deanna's little brother. She was still sad that her mother went to Odo for help and not to her, but was grateful nonetheless for his aid. Barin was six and she had only gotten to meet him a handful of times, but he was excited for the wedding and for his new big brother to teach him about starships.

They talked about Guinan's twenty-three marriages and their childhoods. They talked about Jack and Felisa and Wesley.

"He's very excited about the Titan's double refracting warp core matrix."

"Wouldn't you be? Don't forget it's twin intermix chambers."

Beverly smiled sadly into her chocolate sundae. "Take care of him for me, okay?"

"Beverly, he's a grown man. Who, if you recall, traveled the galaxy before coming back to slum it with us."

"Just say you will even if you're lying. Please?"

Deanna laughed and reached out to squeeze her hand. "I promise."

On the night before Beverly left for Starfleet Medical, Will fell asleep on the sofa, lulled by voices rising and falling in the melody of friendship. Spot was asleep on the back of the sofa above him, snoring in a way that even Will admitted was cute, although he wondered how long she was going to be with them. The next morning, he was woken up by the transporter chief, his disembodied voice searching for the doctor after she missed her scheduled time of departure. Some time in the night, Spot had moved to sleep on his chest and Will frowned. He shuffled groggily into his bedroom and found the two women sound asleep, chocolate on the blanket, hands clasped and foreheads touching.

* * *

She had found them. Deanna Troi, just half a telepath, was able to breach the Scimitar's cloak where no technology could, though she took no joy in it. There was no joy in penetrating the Viceroy's mind without consent the way he had done hers. It was intrusive and exhausting and although he deserved it, she felt a certain amount of disgust mixed with her accomplishment.

She guided Worf's hand along the display until she felt the familiar tingling of the Viceroy in her mind. It was dark and dirty and sent a shiver down her spine. It wasn't bright and sparkly like her mother's mind, or warm and mischievous like Will's.

She was like them now. Like the Viceroy and Jev and everyone else who used their powers to their advantage. She wanted them to know it was her, though. That she had turned their misdeeds back on them. That she would not sit by and suffer helplessly.

"Remember me."

* * *

"It's Data," she whispered, pressing her nose to Will's uniform. She sighed as his arms tightened around her. He was wounded, but alive and a strange mixture of grief and gratitude welled up inside her heart.

Shinzon and the Viceroy were both gone and her mind was clearer, though no less burdened.

The Captain stared out through the shattered view screen into the field of debris, barely listening to Commander Donatra's offer of assistance. He was looking for him.

Picard was still, but his mind was everywhere. Replaying the events of the last week – a happy beginning through to a tragic end. Regret flowed from every pore like lava. Horror like lightning around his ears. Deep, deep sadness rose up to envelope him like a rising tide. Sadness for Data. For everyone else who was lost. For her.

Deanna turned and looked at him. Picard was rolling the portable transporter between his fingers. "Just open the doors," he said, and for a moment he gave up.

* * *

In his quarters, the Captain passed around glasses of Chateau Picard. "To absent friends." He raised his glass and looked at each of them. "To family," he said, like he had at the wedding, and Deanna began to cry.

He had wanted Data to have a family, someone like him. After Lore, a mysterious positronic signal was a possibility. Data had asked him about his sadness after the wedding. Sadness at a happy time. Beginnings and endings, something gained and something lost. He wanted Data to understand. A signal was a possibility, but surely couldn't be a threat.

He fell right into Shinzon's trap and he dragged the rest of them in behind him. He should have stayed on schedule, gone to Betazed, enjoyed the wedding, and saved his crew. Saved Data. Let them have a honeymoon. There was no way for him to have known, but he'll turn it over in his mind for years.

He would surely be hearing from Lwaxana Troi soon and he deserved it.

"Counselor. A moment."

Beverly lingered by the door, then slipped out with a faint encouraging smile. Will's arm tightened around her shoulders.

"Deanna. I am so sorry. I didn't –."

"I know," she said, and she did. He smiled gratefully, with the affection for her that she had come to cherish, his tortured emotions hanging over him like the proverbial black rain cloud. His eyes were soft, not at all like Shinzon's. "Thank you."

Spot was gone when Will and Deanna returned to their quarters. They weren't sure how she got out, but Geordi and Worf found her at home when they went to sort through Data's personal belongings. She was curled up on his desk, her head on his violin case and her tail wrapped around the small holo-projector housing part of Tasha's soul.

* * *

"I'm going to go say goodbye to the Captain." Will paused by the door and watched her move purposefully around their quarters. Almost everything was gone, in storage and waiting for their rooms on the Titan to be completed. "Deanna?"

"I'll meet you in Transporter Room 3," she said, putting a few final personal items into the last bag. She disappeared into the bedroom and returned with his trombone case, setting it down beside the bag. He was still there.

"Do you want to come with me?"

"This shouldn't take me long. I'll be there in ten minutes."

Then she was gone again and Will heard her rummaging around in a closet he knew was already empty. "Imzadi," he called carefully.

Deanna reappeared in the doorway, their pajamas from the night before clutched in her arms. "One of us has to do this."

She stared at Will until he sighed and ran a hand tiredly across his face. "I know." He watched her cross back to the bag and stuff the pajamas inside.

Deanna turned around and smiled. "Go. We'll be fine. I promise."

Will turned to leave, but stopped just as the doors slid open. A slow grin spread across his face, a mischievous sparkle in his eye that she hadn't seen since the wedding. She crossed her arms and eyed him suspiciously. "What?"

"Nothing. Bye." He set off down the hall, but ran back just as the doors were closing. "I have a surprise for you!" Will grabbed the doors just as they were about to shut. He face lit up like a child's. "We have a pit stop to make before we board the Titan."

"You know if you tell me, it's not a surprise."

"If you read my mind, it's not a surprise either."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"Listen. Just so you know." Will came back inside and unfolded her arms so he could take her hands. "Those nights when you thought I was asleep, I heard you. Why didn't you return her messages?"

Deanna sighed. "I didn't know what to say. She already knew what happened. Being the most powerful Betazoid has its drawbacks." Deanna's frown morphed into a scowl and she looked almost embarrassed. "Will? I know I'm old, but … I want my mommy."

He laughed and she smacked him. "You won't believe this, but I actually wish she was here, too."

That earned him a laugh. Deanna slid her arms around his waist and propped her chin up on his chest. "Liar."

"There's no need for name calling, Mrs. Riker."

"You know, legally on my planet you have to be Mr. Troi."

"It's an honor." Will leaned down to kiss her as he untangled her arms from around him. The doors slid open and he backed into the hallway. "Pack for the beach, Imzadi. We're going home!" he yelled before the door closed and he was gone.

* * *

When Deanna and Will disembarked the transport ship at the spaceport on Betazed, Lwaxana Troi was alone. A vivid purple beacon in the vast white building, bright red curls piled atop her head like a lighthouse. Look for the flames.

Deanna dropped her bag and ran into her mother's arms. Lwaxana smiled and buried her nose in her daughter's hair, her love forming a cloud around them, soft but impenetrable.

Lwaxana had awakened that night in a panic. A scream caught in her throat as her eyes flew open. A weight pressed down on her. Two pairs of eyes in the darkness. An overwhelming presence. Conquest, manipulation, and arousal mixed with horror and violation and overpowering fear. She sat up and pressed a hand over her heart to calm the pounding. She scrubbed her other hand across her neck where she still felt a faint cold tingling.

"Mama?" Barin stood in the doorway, his stuffed Alaskan moose in his arms. "You were yelling."

Lwaxana managed to pull half a smile onto her face. "I'm sorry, darling." She held out her arms and he clambered up onto the bed and into her lap. She brushed his hair back and kissed his forehead and held him tightly. She looked over his head into the dark corners of the room, her daughter's telepathic agony echoing in her head. "I have to go get your sister."

Lwaxana was in the middle of fighting with a Starfleet Admiral when she heard her call out to her for the first time. A prickling in the back of her head. She held up her hand and the Admiral on the screen in her office sputtered to a stop. She closed her eyes and listened.

_Mother?_

"Ambassador," the Admiral began again, "you have to appreciate our other concerns –."

"I have only one concern, Admiral," she said before she hung up on him.

Lwaxana was on the bridge of the small craft she had commandeered when she felt them again. The pilot she hired for way more than he was worth froze halfway out of his seat as she stumbled into the wall. Something pushing against her. Breath in her ear. Fingers on her chin. She was bracing herself for the worst when she suddenly felt a wave of determination rise up inside her and he dematerialized.

When she opened her eyes, the pilot was staring at her. "What?" she snapped and he dropped back into his seat. "Can't this thing go any faster?"

She was stopped at the edge of the Neutral Zone by two Federation ships. She argued valiantly with them for hours about igniting an interstellar conflict, whether or not they had dominion over her vessel, and her rights as a mother. In the end, one of them trapped her in a tractor beam and towed her home for her own safety, her muted figure screaming at them on the view screen.

Lwaxana tightened her arms around Deanna. Now that she had her, she didn't want to let go of her, but she had a wedding to arrange – again. She would fight all her natural instincts and make it small, not fancy, nothing shiny. Just family.

Chandra Xerx burst into the house without ringing the chime. She was yelling, out loud, just as she had done nearly every day since she was four years old until Deanna went away to the Academy. Ian always loved it – she reminded him of the wacky neighbor on every ancient Earth sitcom – and Lwaxana secretly smiled, though she complained that it gave her massive headaches. Chandra ran in and out of each room, checked all of their old secret hiding places, then flew out into the garden and straight into Deanna's arms. They screamed incoherently at each other in a way that only childhood best friends could and she yelled something obnoxious and overly-familiar at Will over Deanna's shoulder and he laughed. On her way to hug him, Chandra noticed the woman beside him. "The flames," she whispered. Chandra hugged Beverly just as tightly and Deanna's heart nearly burst.

Will asked Barin to be his best man and the little boy gasped, his black eyes widening with awe, before asking what that meant. Barin and his moose followed Will around importantly for three days leading up to the ceremony. They ran errands for Lwaxana. They picked out the food, mostly desserts, and then pretended to take it back when she said no. They ate too many desserts while hiding in the park. They got presents for the girls. They snuck away to the spaceport to watch the ships.

When Deanna and Will arrived on Betazed, everything felt lighter. Her burdens were no longer her own. The minds of her people fluttered with familiarity at the edge of her senses. Chandra Xerx prickled in her mind as soon as the transport landed and then barged to the front of the pack, mentally poking her in the ribs, warning her that she knew she was there.

Will's footsteps echoed across the empty spaceport as he went to retrieve her abandoned bag. Deanna inhaled deeply – her mother's perfume, the flowers, the jungle, the beach all filling her head and pushing everything bad out into the ether. The sun was shining between the pink clouds and there were blue skies. Her only concern now was to be home, with these people, for this purpose.

Deanna pressed her cheek into the deep velvet of her mother's dress and Lwaxana pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I tried to call for you. It's silly, I'm not powerful enough, but –."

"Oh, no, Little One. I heard you."


End file.
